Comfort
by VerityFrancesB
Summary: Comfort can come from the people you least expect and in many different forms.
1. Gibbs and Ziva

He put it down to comfort. That's what it was, comfort for both of them. Or possibly the vast amount of alcohol they consumed. Whatever it was, She needed to forget that today, a year ago, she had shot and killed her brother and he needed to forget that the woman who had haunted his memories for the last 7 years was currently parading around his work place, day in day out, and the memories of his family that had been torn from him.

He knew it was going to be a tough day for her, he had always been good at remembering dates, even people thought otherwise, but the minute she walked off the elevator into the bullpen, he knew. He gave her an almost imperceptible nod, she responded with one of her own, she was ok, she just needed to get through the day and wallow on her own, in the darkness.

The day passed without a hitch, she snapped a couple of times at DiNozzo who had no clue what was going on in her dangerous mind. She hid in the bathroom when anger and emotion had overcome her, anger mostly at herself for letting herself get so caught up with something so trivial as emotions. He recognized the hard exterior as a mask for something lurking underneath and when she starting leaving for the day, he slipped into the elevator as the doors were closing and looked at her, she stared back, not willing to let herself see that he knew what was going on.

"I'm driving you home." He said, turning away from her. She shook her head.

"That is not necessary Gibbs, but thank you." She said as the elevator doors opened. He caught her arm as she walked out and she turned to him, 'leave it alone' written all over her face. Something made him hold on though; maybe it was his need to always push at people just to see how far he could go.

"It wasn't an offer, Ziva." She furrowed her brow slightly at his use of her first name and gently disengaged her arm from his hand.

"Ok." The car ride was silent. She stared out of the window, the rain made it nigh on impossible to see anything but she didn't want to look at the one man who knew what she was thinking. She didn't want to break down in front of him again, not after the hospital just before he left for Mexico, she couldn't let herself do that.

He caught her wrist again as she got out of the car. If she was surprised that he had bought her to his house, she didn't show it, but stared down at his hand over her wrist.

"You're coming in, drinking too much bourbon, then going to bed." He said, releasing her wrist and opening the front door. She bit back the urge to walk away, knowing that it wouldn't do any good anyway, he would just come after her and probably handcuff her to a chair in his basement and force her to watch him sand his boat all night.

"Would arguing do any good?" She asked, he shrugged.

"Probably not." She walked into his house, taking in the sparse furniture and lack of pictures apart from the ones on the mantle piece, the ones of his family. She picked one up and turned to him. He looked back with little emotion.

"There is nothing I can say to make it better." She said. He nodded, there wasn't anything she could say, and he hated it when people tried. Words weren't going to bring them back. He took the photo from her, appreciating her attempt at comforting words, and took her hand, leading her down stairs. She ran her hands over the shell of the boat in his basement. She remembered lying underneath it a few months ago, how quick he had come to save her when she needed him, and how he had almost gone back for good.

"Drink this." He said, shoving a mug full of bourbon into her hands. She took a sip, revelling in the warmth it left behind as it went down.

Too many mugs later she sat, slumped against the counter in his basement, leaning slightly against him.

"Time for bed." He said, standing up and pulling her with him. She lost her balance as she stood up and stumbled against him, her hands flat against his chest. She dragged her eyes away from her hands up to his face to find him staring down at her. His hands were at her sides, resting on her hips and she couldn't quite control the slight shiver that ran through her. She shook herself off, putting it down to the dry spell she was going through, and too much bourbon, but when his hand brushed a lock of hair out of her face, she leant forward. His lips were inches from her and she could feel his breath against her face.

His hands moved to her arms and squeezed, he wasn't sure if he was trying to put distance between them or move her closer, but her mouth was too damn close to his and there was nothing he could do to stop himself closing the distance between them and covering her lips with his.

When he moved towards her she shut her eyes, unsure if this was dream of not. She had never really thought about him in this way. Sure he was startlingly attractive for an older man, but he was her boss. Sure his eyes were mesmerizing, but he was wounded, broken and so obviously in love with Jenny, and Jenny was her friend, but when he kissed her she forgot all logical arguments and moved her hands to his hair.

Her hands in his hair drove him on, running a hand down her spin, he felt her arch her hips into him. Her hands left his hair and cupped his face, bringing him closer. His hands pulled her hips towards him. She ran a rand down his stomach between them, and it founds its way under his shirt. The feel of his skin, the hardness of it mesmerized her, it radiated a heat from deep within him. Abruptly she pulled away, her breathing a little elevated, her lips slightly parted. She looked questioningly at him; he looked back, not knowing the answer to the question she was asking with her eyes. She shook her head slightly.

"Didn't you say something about bed?" She asked, his raised eyebrow made her realize her mistake. "That is not what I meant." She stuttered, he let out a small laugh.

"I think that is probably best." He showed her to his spare room, hanging in the doorway, not knowing what to say. She cupped his face once more.

"Thank you." She said simply, thanking him for taking her mind off the images that had been flashing across it all day. He covered her hand with his.

"Night Ziva." He smiled and retreated. She watched him leave, knowing that he would go back to his boat and knowing that this would never be spoken about again, kissing her boss had been something that had happened in the spur of the moment, but it had made her feel better. Years ago she wouldn't of have had any qualms about sleeping with Gibbs, but now, she was older and wiser and knew that they both would have regretted it in the morning. She touched her fingers to her lips; they still tingled slightly, and smiled to herself.

"Night Jethro."

* * *

_V!_

_xox_


	2. Gibbs and Tony

_Ok, this wasn't meant to be a one shot series, but I inadvertently made it one! _

_This comes after Internal Affairs.  
_

* * *

The footsteps on the stairs were unfamiliar. They weren't Jens, Jens were hesitant, but light and sure. Ziva's were almost silent, like she couldn't quite give up her Mossad ways. Abby's were bouncy, and heavy in her steel capped boots. The footsteps may have been unfamiliar but the shoes weren't, nor was the voice.

"Boss." Tony said quietly, alerting Gibbs to his presence, even though he already knew he was there. Gibbs gave the younger man a nod, taking in his tired eyes and slightly disheveled hair.

"DiNozzo." He replied, handing him a beer. Tony took it gratefully, sitting down on the steps and cradling the bottle in his lap.

"Couldn't sleep." Tony stated, trying to give an excuse for turning up at his boss's house at 3 in the morning.

"Uh-huh." Gibbs replied as he continued working on the boat. Tony was grateful for the silence and acceptance, not wanting to answer questions about why he was really there. Truth was he didn't really know himself. He could have gone out and found some nameless, faceless girl who reminded him of Jeanne, he could have got stinking drunk with Ziva whilst she offered her own form of comfort, he could have got stinking drunk by himself and passed out, drifting off into a dreamless sleep. Instead he was sitting on the steps of his boss's basement, feeling like a child watching his father work.

"I lied to her face, Boss." Tony said after a while, the beer in his lap was still unopened and he stared at it. Gibbs put his sanding block down, taking the beer from Tony he opened it and handed it back. He didn't even need to look at Tony's guilt stricken face to know who he was talking about.

"She'll get over it." He said simply, picking up the sanding block again. She would, eventually, although she had been angry and hurting today, she would eventually get over it, choosing to forget the charming man who lied his way into her life and lied his way back out. Tony flinched at his words, not wanting to hear the truth.

"What about me?" He asked. Gibbs stopped at looked at his senior field agent.

"I don't have the answers for you DiNozzo." He replied. Tony looked helplessly at him.

"Could you just pretend? Please?" He asked. Gibbs sighed and lowered himself onto the step next to him. Tony stared straight ahead, his jaw muscles rippling with embarrassment and irritation.

Gibbs sighed again, desperately trying to think of something comforting to say. He had lied to too many women himself to give Tony any advice but it pained him to see the boy looking lost.

"Sometimes the truth is harder to hear Tony." He said eventually. Tony looked at him, his eyes expressed confusion at Gibbs's statement. Gibbs swallowed.

"Imagine how difficult it would have been for her to know that you loved her and still lied to her." Gibbs said. Tony nodded in agreement; he stared at his beer like he had forgotten he had it and took a sip.

"I just can't stop seeing her face." He said looking at Gibbs. Gibbs patted him on the back gently.

"You will, DiNozzo." He stood up and handed another beer to Tony who shook his head. Gibbs began sanding the boat again. Tony watched halfheartedly, listening to the sounds of Gibbs working, he finished his beer. Gibbs stopped sanding when he saw Tony stand up.

"Thanks Boss." He said. Gibbs resisted the urge to pull him into a hug and gently slapped the back of his head instead.

"You're welcome, now get some sleep." Gibbs turned away from him and picked up the sander yet again. He smiled as Tony walked up the stairs, a little bit lighter then when he had walked down them.

"On it, Boss."

* * *

_V!_

_xox_


	3. Tony and Ziva

_For the purpose of this, after Judgement Day, the team was not separated immediately; they had a couple of days. The last night together for two of the team. _

* * *

Long, smooth legs wrapped around his waist and she cupped some warm water and dropped it into his chest, tracing the patterns that the oily water left. Her fingernails of one hand scraped gently over his nipple and the other slid down below the water and gently grasped him. There was nothing he could do except arch his hips towards her hand. She lowered her head to his shoulder and he could feel her smirk against his skin. He felt the smirk fade.

"This can't go on, you know?" He heard her murmur. The look of contentment slid from his face.

"I know." He replied, grasping her hands in his. His thumb brushed over her wrist. How they had come to this, he would never know, but it was going to be hard to let it go. It was almost as if they had been drawn, inexplicably, to each other, after the events of Jen's death even more so and not even the team being split up was going to stop them.

Of course it had started before Jen died. Surprisingly no one noticed, but he stood a little closer to her now, glared a little longer, leaned in a little closer. But he stood by his decision to change their relationship for ever.

"Can't we just pretend?" He asked, glad and sad at the same time that he couldn't see her face.

"Just for tonight?" She asked. She felt him nod and lean back into her. Her hands crept downwards again.

"That's all we have." He replied. Her hands stilled just below his stomach. He leant forward and twisted round to look at her. She smiled lightly. He grazed a finger down her cheek. With surprising grace he managed to stand up and pull her with him. Her wet body slid against his and she smirked at his evident enjoyment of the maneuver. He stepped out of the bath and lifted her out after him. He held onto her, her feet inches from the ground and he kissed her, his tongue ran over her lips and she opened her mouth, granting him the access he wanted. He walked to her bedroom sat down with her on his lap. She pulled away and looked at him. He cupped her face in his hands, running a thumb over her cheek bone.

"I don't want to go." She admitted. She internally winced, she sounded like a child. America had definitely changed her. He cocked his head and flashed her the grin that she had fallen in love with.

"You're not going anywhere yet." He deposited her on the bed and swung his leg over her, effectively rendering her immobile, although he knew she could get out of the position if she wanted to, it was fun to pretend that he was in control.

He looked down at her, her brown hair was curly today, he preferred it that way, it made her look softer. He wanted to lose himself in her, forget that tomorrow they were being ripped apart from each other, forget that it was his fault this was happening, find comfort in the one place he knew where to find it since Jeanne left. It was her turn to cup his face.

"It wasn't your fault." She said softly, and wriggled under him, getting his attention back to the present, because they didn't have long.

He trapped her hands above her head and kissed her neck. He took his time, memorizing her body with his fingers, because he knew in dark times, when he was alone of that godforsaken boat, he could conjure up the image of her naked underneath him.

He was still taking his time when she lifted her hips to his. _Please_, she pleaded. He slipped into her, loving the way she clutched at his shoulders. The look in her eyes told him she needed to feel alive, so he thrust hard into her.

It was her form of comfort, the pain of leaving was being dulled by the feel of his hands around her wrists, him moving deep within her. She bit on his shoulder as she fell over the edge, wanting to mark him and the mixture of pleasure and pain caused him to follow her.

She didn't want to talk, she wanted to lie, afterglow washing over her, blood pulsing between her legs. But he lifted his head from her shoulder and wiped a bead of sweat of her forehead.

"Hey…it's ok, we'll see each other again." He comforted. She leant into his touch.

"Will we?" She asked. Her eyes begged him to lie to her and since he could deny her nothing he obliged.

"Of course." She smiled again at him, the smile which said 'I know you're lying, and thank you'. The morning was creeping in through the window when she closed her eyes, nestled next to him with his arm firmly around her. Lying in the comfort of his arms, the world didn't seem such an unfair place.

* * *

_V!_

_xox_


	4. Abby and McGee

It had been a quiet morning in the bullpen. Tony and Ziva had been making eyes at each other all morning, trying desperately to fulfil the sexual tension that surrounded them just by looking at each other. It wasn't working, well if the almost electric energy and paperclips coming from their desks was anything to go by. Gibbs was no doubt in MTAC, partaking in his favourite activity of trying to put the Director off whilst she was on important phone calls. McGee wondered briefly if anyone else had noticed that they seemed to be spending a lot more time together, and getting on better. He thought about adding it to his next novel. A paperclip flew past his head and he looked up to find Ziva and Tony hurling objects at each other. With a sigh he stood, and walked out without a word, Tony and Ziva don't even notice he had gone.

The doors to Abby's lab beeped as they open and he found his arms full of goth as she launched herself at him.

"Timmy." She said. She pulled away and looked at him, taking in the large bags under his eyes, "What's happened Timmy."

"Oh, nothing, I just didn't sleep well last night." He said. Abby cocked her head at him; she had inherited the uncanny ability to know when people were lying from Gibbs. He sighed; he should have known he couldn't lie to her.

"Tell me about them." She said, he stared at her.

"About what?" He asked, not prepared to admit that she knew what was going on. She placed her hands on her hips and frowned at him.

"The nightmares Timmy, tell me about them." She pulled him onto the ground and crossed her legs, handing Bert to him. McGee, unsurprised that she knew him so well, squeezed the hippo and Abby smiled at the noise.

"I freeze Abby." He said, picking some imaginary dirt off Bert. Abby placed a hand on his arm.

"When?" She asked.

"When it counts the most, when a suspect is in front of me. Abby, I feel so stupid." He shrugged dejectedly.

"Don't. I have nightmares all the time, first there was the nightmare I used to have about autopsy, then I had the nightmare before…Kate was…shot," Her voice cracked a little but she carried on, "Do you know how many nightmares I had after Tony's car blew up? But we aren't talking about me…carry on." She urged. McGee smiled at her briefly.

"Someone gets hurt and it's always my fault Abs." He said, he sounded desperate. Abby pulled him into a hug.

"You're a good soul Timmy; don't let this job take that away from you. But you're also a good agent; don't let your conscience take_ that_ away from you."

"But Ziva, Gibbs and Tony don't react like this. Maybe I'm just not cut out being a field agent." Abby pulled out of the hug and punch his arm.

"Don't say that Timmy. Gibbs builds boats in his basement, that's his way of dealing. Tony quotes movies and hits on women, and Ziva…well God know how she deals, maybe she doesn't but she doesn't express her emotions so I guess we'll never know. You are different; it's what makes you special, and what makes you a valuable part of this team." McGee smiled and pulled her back for a hug.

"Timmy?" She said, her voice muffled against his jacket.

"Yeah?" He replied, not willing to let go just yet.

"You're one of the best huggers, anyone ever tell you that?" She said.

"Do I need to get you two a room?" Gibbs asked. Abby and McGee sprang apart.

"No, that was just…"

"A Squg, I know." Gibbs replied, pulling Abby off the floor and handing her a Caf-Pow.

"Actually Gibbs," She offered McGee her hand which he took and pulled himself up, "That was a Sug, a sitting hug."

"No more types of hugs, Abs, I get confused. McGee, paper work." Gibbs pointed out of the door and McGee nodded, squeezing Abby's hand in a silent thank you before scarpering out of the lab. Abby frowned at Gibbs, who smiled back kissed her on the cheek.

"Good work Abs."

"But we haven't even got a case Gibbs." She replied, confused. Gibbs flashed her a smile as he walked out.

"I meant good work with McGee."

* * *

_I know I am meant to be finishing Songs About Jen, but these little things popping up! _

_V!_

_xox_


	5. Ziva and Tony

_Again, for the purpose of this, they all had a couple of days before they left. Set after Judgment Day_

* * *

"It's not healthy, you know?" Ziva said as she slipped into the booth opposite Tony. He briefly looked up, but didn't answer, almost instinctively knowing what she was talking about. One look at her face had his blood pressure soaring through the roof.

"Don't start, Zee-Vah, I am not in the mood." She shook her head slightly, and placed a tentative hand on his arm. He pulled it away and glared at her.

"I am trying to help, Tony." She paused and took a deep breath. "Gibbs would not want you to sit in here every night." She narrowed her eyes at him. He sighed, she was right but he was damned if her was going to let her know that. His hand tightened around the glass that he held and he shook off the feeling of despair at Ziva's mention of Gibbs, and also at the fact that Ziva was leaving tomorrow, and he would no longer be able to ignore her attempt at comfort. Because as much as he hated it, he was going to miss it.

"Stop ignoring me Tony, I am leaving tomorrow, and then you can ignore me all you want, but just listen to me now." Her voice broke suddenly and she stopped, placing her fingers over her mouth. He reached forward and pulled her hand away, his fingertips grazing her wrist, giving her permission to carry on.

"Jenny…" He flinched at Ziva's use of her name, neither of them had got used to it, "never liked it when people sulked." Ziva smiled, trying to lighten the mood. Tony nodded at her, he knew this, he knew that he had to snap out of it and help the others. McGee had already gone and Ziva was going tomorrow, his family was being ripped apart at the seams, and he was sitting feeling sorry for himself. He threw the whiskey down his throat and slammed the glass on the table, earning himself a stare from the couple opposite. Ziva stared back at them and they looked quickly away.

"Have a drink Ziva." Tony gestured to the barman who bought over another glass and the bottle. Ziva frowned.

"This wasn't what I had in mind Tony." She said as she poured a generous amount of whiskey into the glass.

"And yet I see you drinking with me." He replied, flashing her his brilliant smile. She had missed it over the past couple of days, she had missed everyone's smiles. Gibbs rarely smiled anyway, but he had now retreated into himself, hiding even more in his basement if that was possible, McGee had gone, across the street, and she missed his smile in the mornings. Abby had taken to listening to Jazz again, no bright smiles, no bone crushing hugs.

"It wasn't your fault, Tony." She said, looking at him with her large brown eyes, desperately trying to get him to see that she was telling the truth. He grimaced, he hated the fact that she was trying to comfort him, he didn't deserve it.

"You keep saying that, but it doesn't help Ziva." He replied, throwing back another shot of whiskey. He had decided hours ago that he was going to get royally drunk, and royally drunk he got.

* * *

"I should have told you Zee-Vah." He drawled as she helped him to walk out of the bar. She rolled her eyes to herself, helping Tony get stinking drunk was not what she had in mind when she decided to see if should could offer him any kind of comfort.

"Told me what Tony?" She asked. He stopped walking and pushed himself off her, staring at her. His eyes weren't focusing properly.

"How important you were…are…will always be." He slurred. She sighed as she hitched him once more and bundled him into her car. By the time she reached the drivers seat, Tony was passed out, his head against the window, his hands curled around a photo. She took it from his hand, it was a photo of the two of them, McGee had taken it a few weeks ago, they had been arguing at a crime scene and McGee had shoved the camera in their faces to try to stop them. She smiled at the photo and put it back in his hands. She brushed his cheek.

"You are important too Tony." She whispered as she turned the ignition and drove to his house.

* * *

"Where are we?" Tony shot awake, startling Ziva as she turned off the ignition.

"At your place Tony, you need to sleep it on, yes?" She said. Tony wrinkled his nose and pushed his fingers into his temples.

"Its sleep it off, Ziva." Ziva smiled, he wasn't that drunk then, if he was still correcting her English. She hauled him out of the car and up the stairs to his apartment. She dug into his back pocket for his keys.

"If you wanted to feel my ass Ziva, all you had to do was ask." Tony slurred. Ziva resisted the urge to slap him.

"I am trying to find your keys Tony." She said, triumphantly pulling them out and unlocking the door. Tony made it to the couch by himself and patted the seat next to him. Ziva sat down and Tony pulled her into a hug. He pulled away and cupped her face in his hands. His eyes stared blankly into hers.

"You're so sad Ziva." He said, she blinked away the tears. He pulled her face towards him and kissed her mouth gently. It was short, sweet, chaste and nothing like she had imagined. She pulled away first.

"Don't be sad anymore sweet cheeks." He mumbled before he passed out. She pulled the blanket over him. For the second time that night, Ziva brushed his face with her fingertips and spoke to the sleeping version of Tony.

"Don't be sad either my little hairy butt."

* * *

_V!_

_xox_


	6. Ziva and Gibbs

_Doesn't really follow on from Chapter 1, but is in the same universe! You guys know how much of a die hard Jibbs fan I am, BUT I think he was angry at her for keeping secrets from him. _

* * *

Her footsteps were becoming familiar. He thought back to a time where his team mates didn't turn up at his house in the middle of the night, a small part of him missed that, but when he saw her face, haunted and drawn, with dark circles under her eyes he regretted ever thinking that. Without speaking he handed her his mug of bourbon. She stared down at it. She looked worse in the half light of his basement, the small desk lamp did nothing to light her face and the shadows were more pronounced.

Ever since she came down his stairs and nearly broke in front of him but instead ended up with her lips against his, she had snuck in more times that she could or cared to remember. He always knew when she had been there, the look in his eyes the following morning told her that much. But he never said anything, just like the kiss, it was something that they never spoke off. She had snuck in a few times when he was here too, just to sit on the bottom step, watching him work. It was calming and it soothed her burnt out nerve endings.

However, now it wasn't working. The images of her and Michael floated around her head, flashing in front of her eyes. The image of Hoffman's dead eyes above her as his weight pressed down on her appeared every time she closed her eyes. She had already told Gibbs that she had nearly died before, he knew, but why was this time any different?

"I...uh...don't know what happened." He had picked up the tail end of a conversation between Tony and her and knew what she was talking about. He always knew what she was talking about, just as he always knew when she had been in his basement. The scent of her lingered in the air, it was intoxicating and he didn't know whether he liked it or hated it, either way it was distracting. He looked at her, sensing she needed to say something else.

"I got emotionally involved Gibbs, it wont happen again." She hung her head. He knew she was trying to apologize for falling into bed with someone, although why she had to apologize was beyond him Gibbs sat down on the step next to her and took the mug from her. He took a sip and handed it back.

"You needed comfort; we all do every now and then." She turned her head to look at him. He was staring straight ahead, his jaw muscles rippling and she nearly reached out to trace them with her fingers.

"Where do you get it from?" Her question startled him and made him think for a minute.

"What are you looking for Ziva?" He asked. She shook her head.

"I don't know…something to make this go away." She replied. When he didn't answer she took a sip of bourbon and handed the mug to him. He took it from her as she stood up. His fingers closed around her wrist as she made to leave. She stared at him, questioning with her eyes. He gave her wrist a small tug and she came into his arms.

She let go, aware that he was possibly the only person that she felt comfortable enough with to let go. Sobs racked through her body and she clutched to the back of his shirt. One of his hands cradled the back of her head whilst the fingers of the other splayed across her lower back, pulling her body firmly against his. The feel of his hard chest against hers comforted her and gradually her sobs lessened. She pushed herself away, embarrassed at her lack of self control.

"That won't happen again." She said quietly, her way of apologizing without saying sorry. He lifted her chin with a finger.

"It's ok." He brushed a tear away. His body was vibrating with the need to kiss her but the hold that Jenny had over him was holding him back. Ziva made the decision for him and pressed her lips to his. Her tears flavored her kiss as he held onto her arms, suddenly aware that they had been in this position before, only last time he had started it, and he had put a stop to it. This time he wasn't so sure if he was going to have enough strength to stop.

She, again, made the decision for him and pulled away. She once again looked at him with questioning eyes. He didn't have the answers for her. He couldn't tell her why he had felt the unyielding need to kiss her last time and this time. He couldn't explain why he almost unhappy to come home and find she hadn't been there that evening. He let go of her arms.

"So…" She began and he pulled her back to him again, covering her mouth with his. He didn't want to talk, he didn't want to analyze, he wanted to feel. His constant thoughts for Jen clouded his vision, his anger at her keeping secrets from him made him numb, he hadn't felt, truly felt, for a long time and having Ziva in his arms, her tongue running over his made him _feel._

This time he didn't pull away, this time neither did she. This time he lost himself in her on the floor under his boat. This time comfort was truly had. He didn't spare a thought for Jen as he shuddered above her, neither did she as she clutched at his slick skin. There was just the two of them, taking comfort in each other.

* * *

_V!_

_xox_


	7. Jen and Ziva

_So I was slightly told off my M E Wofford for not having Jen in this series, so here she is. I was also threatened by Aly…God you guys are SO nice to me! _

_Set some time after Dead Man Walking_

* * *

Ziva sighed quietly as she pushed open her old friend's door. Jen looked up from her desk and immediately recognized the lost look in the younger woman's eyes.

"Drink?" She offered, pushing herself up from her desk. Ziva nodded silently and drained half the glass of bourbon Jen offered her before sitting down on the couch. Jen studied her friend. The young woman who sat opposite her was different than the younger woman she had met in Cairo, the younger woman who had saved her life. She still had the deadly tendencies, she still got that glimmer in her eyes when she was allowed to use her "ninja skills", but a lot of the hard edge had gone, Jen silently blamed America for that. Growing up in Israel had to be hard, but especially hard when your father was the Deputy Director of Mossad, and joining the elite group of Special Agents was the one thing you had been bought up to do.

Ziva shifted under Jen's scrutiny. Being studied made her uneasy, and when she was uneasy, she became dangerous. Jen looked down at her shoes, took them off and tucked them under her.

"What happened, Ziva?" She asked gently, not wanting to push but sensing that Ziva needed to make sense of things in her head. Ziva frowned slightly to herself, and mirrored Jen's position, tucking her legs under her.

"He died." She said simply. She had never been one for over analyzing situations and she had never felt the need to "talk it out" with anyone. But falling…no, not falling, starting to fall for Roy had made her realized that she wanted something other than to work up through Mossad. Jen placed a hand on Ziva's arm.

"People do." She said, trying not to sound callous, but knowing that pulling Ziva into her arms wouldn't work. Ziva stared at Jen.

"I know…it just seems…unfair." Ziva hung her head, ashamed of the childish sound her voice took when she was unhappy. Jen resisted the urge, yet again, to wrap her arms around the younger woman and settled for a quick squeeze of her hand. Ziva smiled unhappily at her.

"It is." Jen replied. They lapsed into silence, Jens mind wandered to all the people she had lost, and the one who she had lost but who had come back, Jethro. He may be back in her life, but life was still unfair, keeping them apart for one reason or another.

"He was so young." Ziva finally said, "He had so much more to live for." This time Jen didn't resist. She leaned over and wrapped her arms around Ziva's shoulders. Ziva stiffened like she always did when people hugged her, but she relaxed slightly and allowed herself to be comforted by Jen.

Ziva pulled away, embarrassed at her show of weakness. Neither of them were overly affectionate, but Jen craved human contact when she was mourning, Ziva shied away from it. Jen looked at Ziva, her eyes looked sad. Jen wanted to tell her that it would be ok, that _she_ would be ok, that she would find some on who she would spend the rest of her life with, but she couldn't. Ziva seemed to understand Jen and she nodded once and briefly hugged Jen in thanks. Before Jen could react, or offer any more words of comfort, Ziva was gone.

* * *

_V!_

_xox_


	8. Jen and Abby

_Set just after Abby's stalker incident...I think I may have spelt Michael wrong...Sorry_

* * *

I knocked tentatively at the door, it was late and she, if she was awake, was no doubt wondering who the hell was knocking at her door at 2 in the morning. She looked confused but welcoming when she opened the door.

"I know it's late, ma'am, Director...Jenny, but I...can I...um." I was babbling, a bad habit of mine so I trailed off with a shrugged of my shoulders. Jenny stood aside and smiled.

"Come in Abby." I must have looked relived as I stepped into the town house, I felt it. I needed to talk to someone, I didn't want to be alone. Gibbs wasn't at home, he was out doing god knows what with god knows who, but even if he was at home, he wouldn't have done much talking. I looked around in awe.

"Wow...this is amazing...I bet it echoes right? Cos, you know, it's so big and all…I have this cousin, well he is more like a second cousin twice removed," I thought for a second, "I think…anyway, he has this _massive_ house and…" I trailed off again noting the amused expression on Jen's face.

"What's up Abby?" She asked, gesturing me to follow her into the kitchen. The stove is on and there is a pan of milk warming on it. She looks at the pan and then at me.

"You want a hot chocolate?" She asks. I can't help but nod my head enthusiastically like a child and sit down on one of the kitchen chairs. She turns to me again, her eyes brows raised in question and I know she wants to know why I'm here. I can't bring myself to tell her, I can't bring myself to tell my Boss that I am terrified of being alone in my apartment and the only person I feel safe with is Gibbs and that she was a second choice.

"I just couldn't sleep." I say as I mentally slap myself for not thinking up a better excuse. She raised an eyebrow at me, she is like Gibbs, always knows when I am lying.

Speaking of Gibbs, my uncanny ability to pick up his vibes starts tingling and I look round the kitchen, his wallet is lying on the counter, along with his side arm. I furrow my brow in confusion, but look innocent as Jenny turns back to me and hands me a mug of hot chocolate. I study her as if she has turned up at my place, not the other way around. She looks happy. In itself not unusual, but it's a different kind of happiness that comes with being totally and utterly can't sleep, can't eat in love with someone who loves you back. My insides squirm happily at the thought. She places a hand on my arm.

"Are you ok Abby?" She asks. I nod gently. "Is this about what happened with Michael?" She asks, urging me to answer. I nod again.

"He's not going to hurt you again, you know that?" She says, her voice soft and gentle. It makes me feel warm and I smile easily. "Gibbs won't let that happen."

"Did he tell you that?" The tone of my voice suggests that I know he is there and she looks shocked and I resist the urge to smile. Instead I glance at his wallet lying on the counter. She sighs and bites on her bottom lip. Her eyes light up when she looks at me though and I know that she can see how happy I am about it.

As if on cue he appears, his features are softened by the dim light and Jenny's soften just by looking at him. I throw myself into his arms.

"Hey Gibbs." I say. He lets out a small laugh.

"Hey Abs...you ok?" He asks. I nod for the one hundredth time that evening. Jen and Gibbs share a look and not for the first time I realized just how much they say to each other without words.

"Abs, there is a spare room at the top of the stairs, first door on the right." Jenny offers. I wrap my arms around her neck and breath in her scent. I do the same with Gibbs. My insides once again squirm happily as I look at them and practically bounce out of the door.

"The kids like it when mommy and daddy get on." I say and I almost hear their smiles as I leave them alone. Suddenly the world makes sense and I feel safe again.

* * *

_I know this was meant to be Jen and Abby but Gibbs took over! Can't blame him really, if I was a guy and looked like him i would take over everything too! _

_V!_

_xox_


End file.
